


Throne

by Starofwinter



Series: Gotal Aliit [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Throne Sex, Trans Din Djarin, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, boba and fennec DID come to free slaves, rip to the jedi but they're different, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Bobadoeslook good on his throne.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Fennec Shand
Series: Gotal Aliit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077830
Comments: 12
Kudos: 380





	Throne

The throne room still stinks of ozone and burnt flesh when Din finally makes his way in, stepping over bodies as he does. “What about the one you let escape?”

“She was being kept as a slave,” Fennec says with a shrug, “That’s what we’re here to do.”

Well, he hadn’t known that, but really he hadn’t registered most of the trip here besides the single conversation he’d had with Fett before he sank into a kind of awful numb grief that had only broken when they’d headed into the desert and he could let it all fall away into the now-familiar teamwork of breaking into a fortified building with extreme prejudice. 

He feels better now, and he isn’t sure he wants to take a good look at what that means.

It’s easier to focus on Boba, sprawled in the throne with his legs spread, looking like the tooka that got the cream and like royalty all in one. It makes his mouth go dry with something that feels like  _ want _ . He takes a step forward, and Fennec smirks from where she’s perched on the arm of the chair. “Think he likes it,” she says, leaning forward so her lips brush Boba’s helmet before he tugs it off and grins up at her. 

“Come here,” he says, and the command in his voice is enough to make Din shiver as it shoots through him. He doesn’t even have to think, just obeys. Boba tugs him into his lap, making Din straddle his thighs so he can tilt his chin up and look him over. “You okay?”

He blinks and tilts his head. “I’m fine. I’m in beskar.”

“Didn’t stop you getting knocked around on that cruiser. I’ll ask again:  _ are you okay _ ?”

The insistence makes him stop short. He doesn’t know if he can remember the last time anyone asked if he was alright. “I’m fine. No one got close enough to hit me.” 

“Good,” Boba says, and leans in to rest his forehead against Din’s helmet, “Akaan’la.” 

Din runs his fingers over his scarred scalp instead of arguing. It’s not worth it, and besides, Fennec was right when she said that he  _ likes _ seeing Boba on the throne. He looks like he belongs there, and on impulse, he slips off his lap to kneel between his legs. 

Boba’s eyes go hooded, and he smirks as he looks down at Din, like the statue of a god looking down at worshipers he’d seen on some planet years ago - only better, because Boba is alive, thighs warm around him as he tugs off his codplate and unfastens his flight suit to pull his cock out. 

It takes him a few moments to figure out how this will work, but he raises the rim of his helmet just enough to take Boba’s cock into his mouth without exposing his face. He’s not experienced, and he’s sure it’s obvious, but the warmth of Boba’s gloved fingers on his bare throat and chin as he groans makes him feel a little more confident. He focuses on the head, mimicking what Boba seemed to like doing to  _ him _ , hoping the sensations translated well enough. 

“One of these days, I’ll teach you how to suck a cock,” Fennec says, and her matter-of-fact tone makes Din flush, the heat spreading down his throat as she laughs. “Maybe Boba here will teach you how to eat me out too.”

“I’ll blindfold her,” Boba agrees with a groan, “You won’t have to worry about anything.”

The care they keep showing him is… new, and he’s not sure how to take it, but he relishes all of it. He hadn’t expected how much they would  _ care _ about him, even after he agreed to their arrangement. He wants to give some of that back to them too; he’s starting to fall for both of them in different ways, and it’s helping to fill a little of the strange new gap in his life.

“Come here,” Boba orders, and it makes Din shiver just as much as the first time he’d said it, the growl in his voice pulsing straight to his cock. He blushes again at the way his suit sticks to his thighs as he tugs it off with the necessary pieces of his armor before he climbs into Boba’s lap again. 

Boba rubs a thumb over his cock, the soft leather making him gasp. “Needy,” he murmurs, before he pulls it away to press it to Din’s mouth, raising an expectant brow until he licks his own slick off it, already panting. “Good boy. You want my cock?” he smiles as Din nods, too desperate to be ashamed of how badly he  _ needs _ it, “Go ahead and take it.” He reaches back to tug Fennec into a kiss, leaving Din to position himself and sink down on Boba’s cock.

He whines as he takes it, slow and steady, savoring the way it stretches him open. He’s dripping for it, and if he could think at all, he’d be embarrassed as Fennec purrs, “Look at that, you’re so eager for him, aren’t you?” Instead, he can only nod.

“I want to hear you,” Boba says, and Din lets himself moan his name. Boba’s bare hands on his hips feels like electricity, and a shiver ripples through him. He’s going to have bruises when they’re finished, but the idea of wearing those marks fills him with-  _ something _ that he can’t name.

He can hear Fennec kissing Boba, his little hiss - did she  _ bite _ him - loud in contrast to the quiet of the throne room. Fennec leans in against his shoulder, her hand sliding down Boba’s wrist to where his hands are so tight on his hips. “You like it, don’t you?” she purrs, and Boba gasps as Din clenches around him, “We’re the only ones that will see these marks, isn’t that right?” It feels like he can’t breathe, like the air is too still and suffocating, but in a  _ good _ way. It’s too confusing, and he tightens his own grip on his thighs, the cool beskar grounding him again. 

“You’re  _ ours, _ ” Boba growls against the back of his neck, his breath hot even through the seal of his helmet - or maybe that’s just what Din thinks he can feel. He’s so warm all over, from his flushed cheeks to his belly to his cunt to his thighs. 

Fennec strokes one trigger-calloused finger over his cock and he jerks against Boba’s chest, coming hard enough that everything - Boba’s murmured curses as he follows him over the edge, Fennec’s soft, teasing laugh - fades out for a few long moments. It feels like an eternity before he catches his breath and the hazy, drugged feeling fades, but he comes to with Boba’s arms wrapped around him, one hand rubbing low on his belly and the other warm and firm on his ribs. “You okay?” he asks with a chuckle that rumbles against Din’s back. 

Din grunts softly, trying to answer even though his thoughts feel like a scrambled comm channel. The sharp scent of alcohol is making itself known, and he rolls his head to see Fennec holding out a cup of the same glowing blue drink that’s in her own glass. “I’m working on getting the water lines cleared, this is all we’ve got for now.”

He mumbles something that he intends to be  _ thanks _ as he takes it, but his hands aren’t responding, and he curses as he almost drops the cup. Boba steadies it for him, holding it so Din can lift his helmet just enough to pour the drink -  _ Manda _ it tastes like rocketpack fuel - down his throat. It’s cool, and it starts to steady him despite the faint buzz already building in his belly. 

“Good to know all it takes is getting to come to get you to have a drink with us,” Fennec teases him, but her look is as fond as he’s ever seen it. He just groans and shifts to climb out of Boba’s lap; he’s sticky and damp with sweat and… other fluids.

“Mm- no, you can stay right there, sweetheart,” he purrs, his hands tightening on his hips and holding him still, “Keep my cock warm for me.” Din shudders and wishes it wasn’t as hot as it is. 

He can hear Boba’s smirk in his voice when he adds, “That’s it, gonna be a good boy for me?” Din can’t help the whine low in his throat; damn Fett, he found a weakness and now he seems to want to exploit it. What’s worse is,  _ it works _ . Din leans back with Boba’s hand pressing on his chestplate, sighing. He’s not uncomfortable, even though part of his still-scrambled thoughts says he ought to be. Fett’s thick thighs are spread wide, supporting him easily, and it’s easy to relax against his broad chest. 

It’s even easier to let himself drift. At some point, he realizes that he feels  _ safe _ . There’s no need to be vigilant here, only able to trust himself and to watch his own back. He trusts Boba and Fennec to watch out for him. The thought fades away like snowflakes almost as soon as it forms, and he sighs and closes his eyes. 

He doesn’t surface for a while, just letting the feeling wash over him, with Boba and Fennec’s low voices murmuring to one another, words he doesn’t bother trying to make out. Finally, he blinks himself awake, not sure what pulled him from that quiet, warm place until he realizes that Boba is shifting his hips, grinding slowly into him. The way he’s moving makes his cock hit deeper than before, and as much as Din wants to stay still and let Boba use him, he can’t hold back a soft gasp at the jolt of something that’s almost pain but stays just this side of pleasure. 

“There you are,” Boba murmurs against the back of his neck, “I wondered if you were going to sleep through this.” His voice is rough, and Din feels his cock twitch inside him. How long has he been fucking into him before he woke up? The thought makes him moan, and he grinds down on Boba; the grunt he gets in return makes something warm bloom in his chest, so he does it again. 

“Brat-” But Boba is chuckling breathlessly, and he sounds fond. He grinds up, and they find a rhythm between them that has Din gasping for breath in moments before he comes again, shuddering against Boba as he tries to keep riding him but his body won’t respond. 

It’s alright though, because Boba grunts as he takes over, fucking into Din until he follows him over the edge, murmuring filth against his neck. All Din can do is take it, slumped against Boba’s chest, reeling and hazy in the afterglow as they catch their breath together.

“Next time, I get to take him for a ride,” Fennec says from where she’s still perched beside them, and Din can only shiver and moan at the idea. 

“Looking forward to it,” he manages, and she laughs and leans over to kiss the dome of his helmet. 

“Next time, though. I don’t do sloppy seconds.” It sounds like a promise, and he realizes he’s looking forward to it. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Akaan'la: fighty


End file.
